


Three times Tron wanted Cuddles and One Time he Gives them

by CyberSearcher



Category: Tron (Movies), Tron - All Media Types
Genre: Circuts, Energy Pool, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Gen, Gen or Romo, M/M, Multi, Pack Cuddles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-11-05 07:25:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17914430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyberSearcher/pseuds/CyberSearcher
Summary: Another excuse to write wholesome comfort, which is a lot harder for me to do than I expected. Here’s to more cavities.Chapter 1; Tron, Flynn and RamChapter 2; Clu and Tron (Pre-coupe)Chapter 3; Sam and Tron(zler)Chapter 4; Sam and Tron (Again, this time in the human world)





	1. Ram, Tron and Flynn

**Author's Note:**

> Tron, Flynn and Ram all take a minute to relax and enjoy the moment. Flynn learns about Program intimacy and subsequently gets pulled into a cuddle pile.

Ram watched as his friend rolled onto his back, eyes alight with energy and mirth. It was odd seeing Tron like this, he couldn’t remember the last time he saw that expression. He realized this was the first time he saw Tron happy. 

He let himself laugh softly at his lighthearted behaviour as he stepped over the small river of energy. Tron tilted his head and cracked a smile. 

“Hey.”

Ram sat cross legged by his side. “Hey.” 

Tron pushed himself up just long enough so his head sat in Ram’s lap. The actuary program blinked, equal parts amused and confused at the others affection. 

He pulled of his helmet and pushed a hand through his hair. At that moment, Flynn looked up from his drinking. Both Ram and Tron startled when he heard a strangled choking sound from the newer program, followed by him beating his chest as flecks of energy flew out of his mouth. 

“Wait, those come off?” He asked.

Both programs shot him odd looks. “Of course they do.” Tron said. “It’s just an addition to our base code they give us when we’re conscripted into the games”

The space between Flynn’s eyebrows creased for a second before it smoothed out and he just shrugged. “Of course they do.” He repeated, clearly amused. 

Tron soon settled back into Ram’s lap and the other program set his helmet beside him. He caught Flynn watching him with a curious look as he shook his curls free. The security program rolled over and curled his arms around Ram in a loose hug, nuzzling his cheek into the others torso.

His circuits glowed at the stimulus and Ram felt himself chuckle again, surprised with how tactile Tron was. Not that he wanted to complain. He leaned back and set one hand on the nape of Tron’s neck, the other folded behind his head as a pillow. 

Slowly, he dragged his hand up and down the back of Tron’s head. He could feel the other purring, the direct contact of circuits reflecting the sensation back. Ram sighed, content to close his eyes and let the fuzzy feeling wash over him. 

He tilted his head to the side and realized that Flynn was watching them with a conflicted expression. Ram pulled a hand away from Tron’s hair to gesture for him to come over. Tron made a small sound at the back of his throat at the loss of contact, but he relaxed again once Ram went back to massaging his scalp. 

Flynn stepped over awkwardly, kneeling beside the two, unsure of what to do. The scene before his was intimate, but to what degree he couldn’t tell. “So… uh, what should I do?” 

“Just get comfy.” Ram muttered. 

They were vague instructions, but manageable. He shifted, lying on his side and watched the lines of light pulse in rhythm with Tron’s purrs. Flynn raised a hand hesitantly and after a subtle nod, traced the patterns of light across the security programs arm. 

He gasped at the soft, warm feeling that flooded his body at the contact. Both programs huffed out a soft laugh at his reaction. Flynn could feel a weird but pleasant phantom touch echo across his own arm. 

Tron reached up to pull Flynn closer, the latter following the motion. It was slightly awkward, with Tron leaving his arm wrapped around his hip, but he couldn’t help take but enjoy the odd intimacy. Flynn distantly wondered how Tron and Ram perceived him, did they think of him as still just a friend, a lover or something uniquely inbetween. 

He’d ponder the Program perception of him later. Now, he just wanted to cuddle and feel happy.


	2. Better Times

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clu x Tron, pre Legacy. All consensual, though there are some slightly creepy undertones from Clu if you really read into it. But like I said, it’s gonna all be wholesome.

Clu stood at the edge of the newly constructed observation tower. Recognizers transported crates filled with construction programs and unfinished buildings grew upward, the edges pixelated and glowing neon blue. 

He looked down at the pad in his hand, one showing the surrounding city and the progress of construction. The other a list of reports from Grid security. Distantly he registers the sound of a ping from behind him, the elevator. Clu can't help the small grin of satisfaction, it was the perfect way to ensure he was never surprised. 

“What is it?” He called behind him, not caring to turn. 

When no reply came, Clu frowned. He turned just in time to see Tron stand behind him, soon followed by the feeling of the programs arm wrap around his torso. Tron gave him a tired smile. 

“I’ve already delivered the report on the sweep. New clusters of Gridbugs, thankful, no derezzelutions.” He said. Then after a beat he reached for his back to rub a cluster of locked nodes across his shoulder. “I did receive some minor lockups. Nothing critical.” 

“Getting old Tron?” Clu shot back, aiming for the low hanging fruit. 

He forced himself not to flinch as the security monitor poked at a circuit on his side. “I may be old, but I’m not fragile. If I can survive the old arenas, I can survive this.” 

Clu paused his motions with the pad. He blinked away the half formed memories from his predecessor - an unfortunate waste, but ultimately imperfect. “Yes, well you’re due for another sweep in the next microcycle.” 

Tron’s head thunder against his shoulder pad, muffling his groan. The administrator couldn’t help but roll his eyes. 

“You said it yourself. You’ve survived worse.” He said flatly.

“Shut up.” Tron poked him again. “Fraggin’ lockups.”

Clu though for a moment, then slowly removed Tron’s arms. He turned back toward the interior and gestured to a bench, sitting and patting at his lap. Tron seemed to get the message. The security monitor followed and stretched stomach-downward, folding his arms over Clu’s lap. 

He adjusted the pads in his arm, letting one settle across Tron’s back. “Where’s the lockup?” 

“Base of the dorsal circuits.” Tron said, moving to point with his arm. “Down - hnf - yea, right there.” 

Clu found himself frowning at how he felt Tron’s energy flow under his fingers. “How many of those bugs did you have to derezz?”

“Don’t remember.” He mumbled. “Doesn’t matter. Had to get the others back.”

Flynn would normally him for that, but Clu wasn’t Flynn. “Exemplary work, as always.” 

Tron couldn’t help but preen slightly at the praise. The contact echoed Clu’s pride in him. He purred, pressing the back of his head against Clu’s stomach. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome, man.” Clu smirked, feeling Tron’s pleasure. “Is there anywhere else you’d like to be petted?” 

At that, Tron looked up at him with a questioning look. But Clu just smirked and pressed harder against the clutch of nodes on his back. Tron went slack and groaned, his bliss bleeding over. 

He gave a half hearted slap at his arm. “Cheater.” Tron grunted. 

“Don’t act like you don’t enjoy this.” Clu said, now running the other hand across the small nicks and lines across Tron’s suit. 

He had so many more lights, nearly hundreds of lines of circuitry. A testimony to Tron’s code and age. Flynn had theorized that the difference was due to Tron being from a different system, rudimentary, but sufficient. Clu watched how Tron keened at the the slightest of touches. It was most likely due to the multitude of circuits.

For some irrational reason, Clu has to quash a feeling of jealousy. 

“Are you alright?” Tron perked up, noticing how Clu’s hand stopped moving. 

Clu shrugged. “Yea, I’m fine.” 

He quickly returned to tracing several of the circuit with each of his fingers, noting where Tron responded best. Clu liked the security monitor like this. So intimate. So unlike the perfect warrior he knew.


	3. Sam and Tronzler

Sam parked his lightcycle to the entrance of his Father’s hideout. He clipped the baton and glanced down the corridor, filled with anxiety. He wasn’t sure what he’d find here or what to expect. Maybe closure, maybe nostalgia. Part of him played with the fantasy that he’d find his dad meditating on the mat where he found him. 

He traced the lights on the corridors, taking his time to appreciate the blend of neon and black, rough cut walls. He noticed the occasional deep, horizontal indent but paid it no mind. Sam wondered if he could learn to do this someday. 

Stepping up into the living room sent a chill down his spine. 

The metallic apples were scattered across the ground, along with several trinkets from the fireplace mantle. Long slash marks cut across the white tiled walls and several of the books were missing. Some of the furniture was upturned or cut into fragments. 

It was like a rabid lion had been caged inside the room. Sam gingerly stepped inside, grimacing at the crunch of glass under his feet. He had a feeling he knew who did this, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to be right. 

He knelt by the flipped couch, noticing the torn remnants of stuffing and the pages of a book. Sam tried to piece together what he could, then swallowed hard once he could read it. 

[I]Frankenstein, Pinocchio 

It was too blatant, it could almost be funny. Sam rubbed at his arm, the phantom sensation sending sparks down his bicep. He inhaled deeply, standing straight and turning back toward the guest rooms. 

He noticed more of those deep cuts across the walls. Some of the lights across the wall flickered and cracked, only adding to the horror movie-esque ambiance. 

The door at the end of the hallway was uncut, but the handle was broken off and ajar. Sam hesitantly looked inside. 

He felt the fear melt away when he saw Rinzler curled in a fetal position on the bed, arms pressed over his head. The faintest quiver in his limbs. Sam couldn’t help but notice how blank he looked, lacking any of the broad lines of circuits other programs had. 

The walls inside were more intact, only one held marks. These smaller and more precise, he could see dozens of them. Sam found where the books had been taken. They were all stacked up with one off to the side like it’d been thrown. 

He tried to lean closer to see what else was in the room, but doing so lead the door to swing open. Rinzlers movement paused. Sam had to bite down a curse. 

But instead of having a Disc at his throat, the Program stayed where he was. Sam took this as a good sign and hesitantly stepped inside. He held his breath as he stepped around to face the front of him.

This close, he could hear the broken purring coming from the Program. So unlike the predator and hunter he knew in the arena. Sam found himself reach out, but paused halfway. 

“Tron?” 

That was the wrong thing to say. 

Sam yelled when Rinzler’s arm suddenly shot out and yanked him forward. He was falling forward, over and down. The Program straddled his waist and held his wrists in a death grip, the purring had returned but came out in a stutter. More akin to gasps. 

The User found himself panic and struggle, trying to buck the hunter off, but every effort only led to a tighter grip on his wrists. His eyes darted back and forth across the smooth surface of Rinzlers helmet as he forced himself to control his breathing. 

He came to the idea of rolling off the side of the bed just as Rinzler removed one of his hands, splaying it over the broad circuit over his chest. Sam was about to ask what he was doing, until he froze. 

Then a sudden wave of pure, anguish flooded his mind. Sam squeezed his eyes shut and but his tongue trying to keep himself from screaming. Somewhere, he felt the pressure against his other wrists fall. He couldn’t feel anything beyond the sense of pain, fear and guilt. All eating away at his insides and tearing apart his mind. 

Tears burned at the edge of his eyes. Sam didn’t bother trying to hide them. The hand on his chest lifted off and the connection suddenly broke, but the echos, the waves of pain clinged to the edge of his psyche. 

As close as he was, he could see the small T shaped set of square circuits just below the Programs throat. They flickered ice blue to deep orange in a distinctly fast pace. This time, Sam didn’t hesitate to reach up. He flattened his palm against the side of the helmet and smoothed his fingers across its surface. 

“I won’t leave you.” He said softly. Some instinct told Sam that was what Tron wanted - needed to hear that. 

The purrs above him increased in pitch, cut between soft whirring and whimpers. Tron fell on top on his and pressed his head against the crook of his shoulder. He was like a stray kitten, lost and afraid. Only lost in his own head, struggling against what Clu had done to him. 

Sam decided that comforting the other was more important than self preservation at the moment. He reached up to run circles up and down Tron’s back. That seemed to do the trick, the broken sounds began to smooth back into even purring. 

He felt the others hands run up and down the sides of his suit, tracing the lines and circle across his hips. Sam turned his head away, struggling not to blush at how awkwardly intimate this was. In an ideal situation, he might’ve enjoyed himself. Sam just forced himself to focus on comforting the other instead of pleasing himself. 

At the new touch, Sam could feel the sense of gratitude and ease his presence gave Tron. The undercurrents of turmoil were still present, but for the moment they laid suppressed. Sam knew he’d have to do something about this, he couldn’t find it in his heart to just leave Tron here again, not for however long it took. 

Fuck ENCOM, they could wait. 

“Hey.” He stroked the back of Tron’s helmet. “I’ll be here as long as you need me, okay? Take however long you need.” 

The purr grew slightly louder in response as a Tron nuzzled closer. It was uncomfortable, but Sam didn’t care. He just continued to hold the Program close, letting himself be used as an anchor. 

Sam yawned softly and stretched the best he could. He felt Tron press himself closer at that. “Heh, don’t worry. Said ‘m not goin’ anywhere.” 

The young man didn’t resist the pull to sleep. But just as he did, he found the hand on the back of Tron’s head brush against something soft. Then a content hum against his ear as Tron nuzzled into his neck and curl his arms around his as they drifted away. 


	5. Sam and Tron

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not responsible for giving anyone diabetes with this series, m’kay.

Tron’s head swiveled toward the garage door, catching the faint rumble of the Ducati’s engine just as it shut off. The door rolled upward and the Program stood to greet his User, who crouched and sprung up on the other side before the door was properly opened.

Sam stretched and groaned when he felt several things pop across his spine. He could hear Marv run up and bark at his feet, jumping up to paw at his knees. “Yea, yea, gimme a sec.” 

Tron set a arm on his shoulder. “There’s no need to feed him. I already did.” 

“Wait, what?” He cocked his head in alarm. “How much?” 

“A cup and a half, like you told me this morning.” Tron stated plainly.

Sam blinked hard before he finally understood what he’s said. “I did?” 

Tron didn’t hide his amusement. He stepped past the tired man and towards their shared room, Marv following his heel. When Sam didn’t copy, Tron made a ‘come hither’ jester and the human once again blinked himself out of his daze. 

“Here, lie down.” The program patted on the pillows. “I can help with those lockups.” 

“Lockups?” Sam tilted his head. 

Tron bit his lip, struggling to find a clear definition. “It’s like - it feels like… energy concentrated in one area, like it’s stuck.” 

It was a elaborate metaphor, but Sam tried to link it to how cramped his lower back felt. “I guess, what’re you gonna do about it?” 

“Just lie down.” He sighed dramatically. “I’ll take care of the rest.” 

“Alright.” Sam plopped himself across the pillow. “Work your magic.” 

Tron grinned above the User as he began to ‘work his magic’. He straddled the smaller man and set his palms on the small of his back. Sam turned his head and cracked a grin. 

“If this was what you call magic, then you could’ve just said so.” He said slyly. 

“Patients Sam Flynn.” Tron scolded, poking him in the ribs. That earned him a faint grunt and a reluctance mumbled of agreement. He pressed gently, trying to guess where the lockup was. 

It was an odd sensation. Tron couldn’t feel anything from Sam under his hands, not like on the Grid. On the Grid his head would be filled with data and the barest outlines of another programs code. Users were so much more different. Tron could feel the rise and fall of Sam’s breath, how the User would express pleasure in his own, unique way. 

He made sure to follow through on his promise though, and began pressing the heel of his hand down and up Sam’s back. Tron knew this would normally encourage energy to flow upward and back to the main subroutines, he didn’t know what it would do for Sam. 

Whatever it was though, it was good. He heard Sam groan under him and arch into his touch. “Ohh, now that’s the spot. Where’d you learn this from?” 

The memory sent a sudden pane of nostalgia and sadnesses flooding through Tron and he was glad for the fact Sam couldn't read his emotional state through their contact. “From an old friend. His name was Ram.” 

The User caught the use of past tense and he reached up the best he could to pat at Tron’s thigh. “I’m sorry I… I wish I could say more.” 

“As you Users say ‘as long as we remember those we’ve lost, they’re never truly gone’.” He said soberly. 

Sam couldn’t help but think of his father, he decided the best response was to just bury his face in the pillow. Tron wasn’t sure how to interpret that at first, so he went back to kneading out the kinks in Sam’s back. 

Soon he relaxed again, giving muffled instructions on where to move and where to press harder. “Up, left and - mhn, right there, yea.”

Tron had one hand just below Sam’s shoulder blade and the other rubbing gentle circles into the small of his back. Somewhere along the hour, Tron noticed a soft rumble coming from the User. It took the security program a second to realize that Sam was snoring.

He laughed quietly to himself. Then slowly, Tron leaned over the smaller man. He kneeled over him, hovering over his cheek and pressed a series of soft kisses across his face. Starting just at the edge of his eye, down across his cheek and then to the corner of his lips. 

Tron shifted overhead until he found himself half-cradling Sam, with one arm and leg over him while Tron tucked his free arm under the pillow. 

“Goodnight Sam.”


End file.
